Can't Buy Me Love
by DracoLurve
Summary: You can only imagine what might happen if Draco tried to buy his way back into Harry's good graces ...


Disclaimer:of course, you all know none of these characters belong to me. If they get into any trouble you can contact the lovely JK Rowling to post bail . . . :)  
  
Just a funny one-shot - no real point, other than to be cute, and of course to answer an age old question.  
  
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
"You know it's not fair! I mean, who decided YOU get to make all the decisions in this relationship? Oh, I forgot. YOU did! I mean, it's ridiculous. I have absolutely no say in anything we do, anywhere we go - Damn it Draco! You even push me away if I try to initiate anything between the two of us! Aren't I allowed to do anything? I mean, all I wanted to do was push you down and worship your skin with my lips, but Nooo. Merlin forbid I'm ever on top!"  
  
"Shut it, Harry. I'm trying to read."  
  
"Oh, sorry, I forgot. You're the Bastard Extraordinaire."   
  
^*^*^*^*^*^  
  
"Here." Draco shoved a tiny package wrapped in red tissue into Harry's hand.  
  
"What is it?" Harry asked warily. He was still exceedingly pissed off at Draco.  
  
"A gift, you dolt. Open it."  
  
Harry opened the package and was amazed at the contents. It was a snitch. Not just any old snitch. A pure gold snitch with platinum detailing. And it had something engraved on it. Some initials. Harry's initials. It was his. For him. He had his own solid gold snitch.  
  
"Draco - it's brilliant! What's it for? It's nowhere near Christmas yet!" Harry gasped, sounding like a little boy.  
  
"Are we better now?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said, are we better now? Is this fight over? It's really starting to get old."  
  
Harry felt all his anger and disappointment towards Draco slowly creep back into his body.  
  
"No, Draco, I'm sorry. You can't buy my love."  
  
Harry turned and walked slowly out of the room.  
  
"The Hell you can't!" whispered Draco. "Can't you?"  
  
^*^*^*^*^*^  
  
The next morning found Harry sitting quietly at the Gryffindor breakfast table. He had just given Ron and Hermione a brief overview of what had taken place.   
  
"Well, that sounds about like him," said Hermione. "Remember where he comes from, Harry. Maybe that's how his family raised him. I'm not saying it's right, but it might help to know why he's doing it."  
  
Ron, on the other hand, thought Harry should take advantage of the situation. "I would take a nice gift any day. You know he was sorry. He just doesn't know how to say it."  
  
Suddenly, there was a flurry of feathers as mail reached the Great Hall. Harry was surprised to see Hedwig lope over to him and deposit a piece of parchment on his eggs. Stealing a piece of toast, she took off.   
  
"That's bizarre. I'm not expecting anything. Wonder what it is." Harry pulled open the tiny note and read,  
  
____________________________  
  
H  
  
I think I'll still try!  
  
D  
  
____________________________  
  
"Try what, exactly?" Ron wondered outloud.  
  
Harry wasn't able to answer her questions as not one, not two, not twenty, but fifty owls each swooped by and placed a red rose on top of Harry's breakfast. Leave it to a Malfoy to never do anything in an understated way.  
  
"Oh dear Merlin. I think he does plan to try," Hermione said.  
  
And so it began.  
  
On Monday morning, Harry awoke to find a small pile of gifts lying on the foot of his bed, sort of like on Christmas Day. He quickly tore open the parcels. They contained, among other things, a new broom (the SunStar XI), a deluxe hair care skin softening potion set (leave it to Draco!), a new set of very fine dress robes and a golden clasp to hold said robes together.  
  
"Well, he's going to have to try a little harder than that," Harry mused, while trying to distract a drooling Ron from spoiling his pretty new broom.  
  
Then, during lunch, Harry was delivered a rather smaller box. It contained a chocolate frog. And a certificate proclaiming Harry Potter the proud owner of 500 shares in the company that produced chocolate frogs.  
  
Later that evening, Harry received a carrying case for his wand made from the finest dragonskin available. And an enchanted quill that corrected your spelling as you went. And a bonsai tree.   
  
  
  
Harry wrote a short note to Draco before he retired for the night. It simply said,  
  
_____________________________  
  
D  
  
You can't buy my love.  
  
H  
  
_____________________________  
  
Tuesday morning was much the same as Monday. His parcels included a wrist watch, a gilded cage for Hedwig, a color coded guide to Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, and a pony. A white one. In his dormitory.  
  
Then, at lunch, it was a pair of Concert Tickets. To a band Malfoy Could.Not.Stand. He said they sounded like a wounded animal trying to play the saxaphone. "Nice touch," thought Harry, amused.  
  
Then, that evening, a book titled: Potion Making Made Easy or, How Not to Blow Yourself Up. "Funny," said Harry, clearly not amused.  
  
_____________________________  
  
D  
  
You can't buy my love.  
  
H  
  
_____________________________  
  
Wednesday and Thursday arrived, bringing with them such gifts as a new wardrobe and quality shoes, much more befitting a person of Harry's renown (so said Draco). Also, a ring in the shape of a lion's head that roared when you petted it, an invisible box to carry invisible things in, and a small jar containing 'Sankinay's Scar Healing Unguent.' "This has got to be a joke!" Harry said.  
  
_____________________________  
  
D  
  
You can't buy my love.  
  
H  
  
_____________________________  
  
By Friday, Draco was getting Desperate. Harry was awakened by a regal house elf. Firstly strange, because house elves were hardly ever what one would call regal. Secondly, Harry was never awakend by a house elf.   
  
"What are you doing?" Harry questioned.  
  
"Waking you up, Master."  
  
"I can see that, but Why?"  
  
"Because it is time for breakfast, Master."  
  
"Why do you keep calling me 'Master?'"  
  
"Because I belong to you, Master."  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
^*^*^*^*^*^*^  
  
At breakfast, it was a letter from Snape himself, outlining to Harry exactly why he acted like such a berk all the time and apologizing profusely for continuing to be a bane on Harry's very existence. This, in itself, would have been phenomenal, if it hadn't been for the letter included. It said:  
  
______________________________  
  
H  
  
You have no idea how much   
  
money I had to give Snape  
  
to do this! Can we be   
  
done with this now?  
  
D  
  
______________________________  
  
"Perfect," thought Harry. Perfectly ridiculous was more like it.  
  
During lunch, Harry received a letter informing him that his bank transfer had gone through and he was now the proud owner of none other than the blazing orange Chudley Cannons. He, Harry Potter, owned his own Quiddich Team. Right. He thought seriously about giving Ron the new broom from Monday, just to shut him up about the Team, HIS Team, but he didn't think it would help.  
  
Then, later that evening, during dinner, Harry was delivered a thick portfolio of parchments. The first parchment informed Harry that he was now a 1/2 owner of the Malfoy Estates, which included Malfoy Manor and other holdings.  
  
Then came the second parchment. It seemed the Malfoys owned an island. Or, rather, they DID own an island. Now, HARRY had an island. This was getting a little out of hand.  
  
"I think it's time to resolve this," Harry told his friends. I mean, what else could there be? Really?  
  
^*^*^*^*^*^*^  
  
Harry walked into his dormitory later that evening and headed directly for his bed. He almost fainted when he saw what was awaiting him. There were Galleons everywhere. Lying on the floor, on the bed, on the desk ... and that wasn't the only thing on Harry's bed. Four very expensive looking silk scarves were tied to the corner posts of his bed. In their silken grasp they held one very restrained, very Naked, Draco Malfoy. Harry laughed. Looking to the other side of the bed, he saw enchanted Galleons floating in the air. They spelled out:  
  
I'M SORRY!  
  
And, the gold and platinum snitch Draco had first presented Harry was used to punctuate the exclamation mark.  
  
"Well," said Harry, "Maybe if you're Draco Malfoy, money *can* buy you love!"  
  
The End 


End file.
